If Dawn Will End
by anime-hq-12345
Summary: Alfred F. Jones is your average hitman looking for something interesting to happen out of all his work. One day, a strange man happens to request something that catches his interest. That strange man requested him to assasinate the prince of UK. As Alfred infiltrates the palace of Arthur Kirkland, what lies in store for him? USUK fanfic. Rated T for some language in the story.
1. Chapter 1: The Client

"What? Another client?"

Alfred F. Jones looked at his assistant; a small, timid young man. His assistant looked at his clipboard nervously and glanced at his watch for the third time already. Apparently, it looked like he needed to keep his hands occupied every second.

Alfred stared at his assistant, looked at the mug of coffee on his desk, and sighed. Then he made a motioning gesture to his assistant and faced the backrest of his chair to him. "Fine, go ahead. Just bring him in."

"Thank you, sir."

His assistant quickly bowed, then walked out of the door to his office. Alfred then heard the _click_ of the door shutting and then sighed again. He shifted through the bunch of documents he was currently holding in his hand containing the information about his client and stopped at the front page. It read:

**Name: Unknown**

**Age: Unknown**

**Gender: Male**

**Description: You may often see this man walking alone in the streets. Absolutely refuses to give out personal information. Often seen wearing a dark trenchcoat and a fedora.**

Alfred blinked. Then he put his head in his hands. The client didn't even have a proper description.

Just as he was pondering on what sort of client the man would be, he heard the door open and shut. Sure enough, he turned his chair around saw what the description had stated: a man in a dark trench coat and a fedora. Alfred already knew he would be bad news.

While Alfred was busy trying to uncover the man's feature from underneath, the stranger already plunked a really thick folder bursting with files and documents onto his desk. Its cover looked really worn and old as if it was sitting in a library for plenty of years. Nothing was really piqued Alfred's attention as he studied its features. But when his eyes turned toward the middle, there was something that REALLY caught his interest.

There was something embossed on the surface of the folder, but as said, the folder was so worn and old that you could barely see it.

It was a symbol standing for the Crest of Royalty. And not just ANY royalty, it was the Royalty of the British Empire. The crest looked like a coat of arms composed of lions, a knight's helmet, and a unicorn. **(Author's note: The unicorn really WAS there. Typical of England. )** A lion wearing a crown and a unicorn with a golden chain clamped to its neck stood right beside each other- seemingly clawing (or hoofing) at what appeared to be a royal purple emblem with its edges lined in gold. The center of the emblem was divided into four parts- three golden wildcats layered on top of each other standing against a bright red background on the top left corner and the bottom right. The top right part had a bright yellow background (or was it gold?) with a red lion roaring and clawing at the left side of the division's red borders. The bottom left had a navy blue background with a golden harp (or lyre, take your pick) shining away in the foreground. The entire center seemed to resemble a shield.

But that was not all of it. Like a ribbon, a royal purple sash lined the inner edges of the emblem- creating a border between what was outside the center of the emblem and what was in it. Light purple words decorated the sash like what appeared to be a motto: _Honi, Soit, Qui, Mal, Y, Pense_.

A golden knight's helmet sat on top of the emblem, spreading the feathers out of its head to both its sides. The knight's helmet also wore a royal crown- shimmering with all its glorious splendor. A smaller lion stood proudly on top of the crown-wearing knight's helmet also wearing a crown while roaring defiantly at the viewers.

Lastly, golden tendrils stretched out at the foot of the lion and the unicorn, each bearing the same royal purple sash- this time with the words: _Dieu, Et_ and_ Mon, Droit_.

That symbol alone was proof enough for Alfred to believe that that folder definitely was a document belonging to the British Empire.

Alfred shook his head in disbelief. This definitely wasn't real. How on earth was a man like that able to get his hands on a document like this?

The stranger seemed to notice his disbelief, because he quickly stated: "Yes, that _is_ a document from the British Empire." Alfred immediately snapped back to his senses. He needed to know the reason why this man was here.

The stranger must have noted his reaction also, because he immediately spoke. "Ah, as for the reason why I am here, You see, I need you to assassinate someone."

Alfred's ears perked up. Assasinations weren't deals that were requested everyday. "I see. So who do you want me to assassinate?"

The stranger's dark eyes seemed to twinkle from under his fedora. He motioned to the folder on Alfred's desk. "Why, it's right here! You can find all his information in there. It took me quite some trouble to get that document."

Alfred became even more curious. The person was a _he_? He picked up the folder and started to flip through it. His curiosity became even stronger with each page he turned. He arrived at the profile and basic information of a young man. Looking at his picture, he could easily tell that the man's most distinguishing feature was his thick eyebrows, which were really dark. Straight blonde hair lighter then Alred's stuck up in some places around his head. Serious Emerald-green eyes twinkled in his face- probably hiding his true nature within, giving the British man a royal look. His mouth was twisted in some sort of a sarcastic smile like he could easily manipulate anything at free will. Overall, the man looked pretty fantastic, in Alfred's view. It would probably be a shame to kill this guy.

But the weird thing was, Alfred thought he recognized him.

Alfred scanned the basic description of the man, and when he finally arrived at his name, His eyes widened in pure shock and he nearly dropped the folder.

It turns out that it will be nearly impossible to kill this man.

This stranger was asking him to kill the current prince of The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

This stranger was asking him to kill Arthur Kirkland.

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**...And here it is! This is my first USUK fanfic, so don't blame me if you see some things in there you don't like. ^ ^''' The next chapter will come soon, so watch out for it!  
**

**By the way, all comments, reviews and criticisms will be welcomed with open arms. I could really use some. I need motivation here, people!  
**

**...And, yes, I looked at the actual British coat of arms for reference. So please look forward to the next chapter. :)  
**


	2. Chapter 2: Stranger Danger

"W-What is the meaning of this?!"

Alfred looked at the stranger like he was mad. Well, the stranger _was_ mad. He was practically asking Alfred to commit suicide- to assassinate the prince of UK, Arthur Kirkland. Now there was a request that even _he_ could not accomplish.

The stranger seemed to study Alfred's expression before letting out a light chuckle. Then his expression turned dead serious. Before Alfred could realize what was happening, the stranger already had him pinned to the wall. He gripped his neck tightly, and Alfred could only choke out pitiful sounds.

"You must be thinking that I'm mad, eh?", the stranger gave him somewhat of a menacing look from under that collar of his, "Well, I'm not. I mean business here, kid. You got that?". He then tightened his grip, making Alfred choke all the more.

"L….Let…..go….", Alfred managed to say in between all his noises. But then that only made the man tighten his grip on him some more. He squeezed Alfred's throat until the point where he could no longer breathe, and just when Alfred thought that the man would actually choke him to death, he let go.

Alfred dropped to the floor on all floors with a huge gasp of air and gulped in as many breaths as he could. He suddenly felt a burning sensation and put a hand to his throat and much to his shock, he found that there was something engraved at the back of his neck- an ugly magical seal.

"Y….You're a magician after all….", Alfred huffed in between gasps.

The stranger gave a sinister laugh, then he snapped his fingers and a huge sack bursting with cash appeared. He let it hover a while over Alfred's desk before letting it drop on the table's surface with a _plop_.

"What else did you think I was, boy?", the magician sneered, giving Alfred some more of that menacing look. But then his expression changed to one of surprise when instead of cowering on the floor, he saw Alfred rise and give off a hearty laugh. Then when he was finished, it was now Alfred's turn to give him a sneer.

"What else did I think you were? An _idiot_. That's what.", Alfred mocked.

Then the magician lifted Alfred in the air like he was nothing and slammed him against the wall. Blood dripped from a corner of the American man's mouth as he gritted his teeth to face him. He couldn't move, and the burning sensation at the back of his neck just got worse. Alfred then realized that the seal was the one that kept him still.

"Can't move, right?", the magician said as he walked towards Alfred slowly. Alfred opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The magician studied Alfred for a moment with dark eyes then he motioned to the bag of cash on his desk.

"That alone costs millions of dollars.", the magician said. Alfred's eyes widened. _Millions of dollars?! _That alone would be enough to get a better house, a better job, and live without worries.

The magician seemed to sense his astonishment.

"I know you want it. If you just obey me, you could have as much of these as you want.", he said.

Alfred's couldn't think straight. What should he do? Evil as the dude was, the temptation was hard to resist.

Now, coming to a situation like this, most of you would probably scream a, _"No way!"_ or a _"FUCK OFF!"_. But to Alfred, the situation was terribly dire—and he had to make a decision fast. The magician still had him paralyzed, and Alfred felt like his limbs were turning to jelly and his mind was turning to mush. Plus, the burning sensation at the back of his neckt wasn't getting any better.

So he did the most obvious thing-he accepted the deal.

"Good boy.", the magician said triumphantly. He let go of his magic on Alfred, and Alfred sighed with relief.

"Now you know what to do. You shall fulfill my little request, or risk having some more of _these_." The magician then pointed his hand at Alfred and then the burning sensation started to well up again. Alfred immediately placd his hand on his neck and started to writhe in pain. That seemed to entertain the magician all the more. His eyes glistened with pure dark intention as he watched Alfred. He then lifted his hand and the burning stopped. He then let off an evil laugh as he walked to the door.

Alfred clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. Why was he so helpless? Maybe if he was stronger, he would just beat the pulp out of this dude.

Just as the magician was going to walk out the door, Alfred asked him a question. "What's your name anyway?"

The magician seemed to pause for a minute, then he turned to Alfred. "That would be better off kept a secret, my friend." And with that, he turned his back on the poor American and shut the door to his office- leaving Alfred alone in the darkness.

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**It is finally finished! It took me days of thinking in order to come up with this. Usually, I try my best to write longer chapters, but somehow, they all end up being so painfully short! TT_TT**

**So please bear with me on the length of this chapter. I'll try to make the next one really long.**

**P.S Thank you to all those people who reviewed! They keep me motivated to continue this fanfic. I shall do my best~ ^ ^**


	3. Chapter 3: Infiltration

When Alfred arrived at the airport, he already knew he was out of luck.

Well, he _was _already out of luck. In fact, he never even had any luck to begin with. Alfred sighed. Enough about that already. He had just accepted a deal to assassinate the prince of UK—from a senile magician/stranger whom he much doubted had any luck himself. For a freaking bag of cash.

Well what could he say? What else would you do if you were pinned to the wall, paralyzed, and you have a really horrible burning sensation at the back of your neck while an insane magician was about to kill you? Not very comfortable.

Alfred's hand immediately flew to the spot on his neck where that cursed seal was placed. He hated thinking about it. It made his skin crawl. He sighed again and dropped his hand to his side. Time to get the thing over with.

Yesterday, just after the magician had left, he immediately picked up his phone and contacted some of his assistants in UK to arrange an appointment for him at the British palace. The assistant at the other end of the phone seemed reluctant at first, but went off for the arrangements afterwards. Alfred knew that she must've thought he was mad.

He searched the entire crowd at the airport and saw someone holding a placard with his name on it. It read: ALFRED F. JONES.

The person holding the placard, of course, was a man wearing a dark suit and black shades. He kept on talking into the microphone clipped unto his ear every second—like he was keeping track of Alfred's movements. When he saw the blonde man approach, he gestured to a vehicle—not any vehicle—but a sleek black limousine. It looked like it was just brand new, polished, and it had two small British flags on its hood.

Alfred's jaw dropped. Surely he had not been expecting this. Maybe the man had been referring to another Alfred, but his full name was on the placard he was holding, clear as day—_Alfred F. Jones_. Now he was beginning to think his assistant had gone overboard with the arrangements.

A small smile tugged at the corner of the man's mouth when he saw Alfred's expression. Just to assure him that, yes, this was real and not a dream, he informed Alfred. "The prince has been awaiting your arrival."

Alfred blinked twice to process what he had just heard. The prince. _Of course_. He mentally kicked himself for not realizing it sooner. The man—or whatever you may call him, opened the door to the limousine and gestured for him to step in. Alfred then fixed his tie, gripped his suitcase firmly, gulped and then went in.

If you'd like to know what riding a limousine feels like, you may just call it _heaven_. Imagine riding the best car you know—then multiply the experience by a hundred. A sofa took its place inside the limousine rather than regular seats. A royal purple rug sat in the middle of the floor with the royal crest emblazoned on it. On top of the rug a small coffee table with drinks and refreshments stood along with surround sound system speakers for music lying all around the inner walls of the limo. On the coffee table also sat a TV remote with a guide to all the channels. In front of the sofa and coffee table was a 45- inch flat screen plasma TV with some 3-D glasses. You could say Alfred was having the time of his life.

Well, he was not.

This morning, he was already nervous. But this time, his nervousness worsened until he found himself pitifully shaking in his seat.

He hated this. Why was he so damn weak?

He kept on fidgeting with his tie, his suit, and he was adjusting the position of his red-framed glasses from time to time. Anything to look formal.

"Is there something wrong, sir?", a private waiter questioned, eyeing him with a hint of worry in his eyes.

"No…. Nothing at all…", Alfred responded. He didn't want to humiliate himself in front of others with his nervousness—especially with this waiter. The waiter then awkwardly nodded, then left him. Alfred sighed then put his head in his hands.

No. This was not the time to get nervous—especially when you're sitting in the private limousine of the prince of UK.

"We are here, sir."

The voice of the man in the suit interrupted his thoughts. Alfred looked up and saw the man holding open the door of the limousine for him. He felt his face beginning to heat up in embarrassment. He sheepishly smiled at the man and then awkwardly adjusted his tie. He stepped out of the limousine and onto— much to his surprise—a royal red carpet. Alfred shook his head in discomfort reminding himself that this was no time to feel stunned when he should be preparing himself to make a personal appearance before the prince himself.

He nervously strutted down the carpeted path and stopped in front of an enormous gate to an even more enormous palace well-guarded by soldiers armed with rifles. Alfred knew that the palace did not look much but it was still very impressive. The palace grounds stretched out to match the size of several city blocks while its walls stood proudly reaching over the height of a mall, boasting rows and rows of ivory-white windows gleaming in the bright daylight. The main building was topped with a dome-shaped roof that resembled a royal crown—its golden tip sparkling like the stars in the sky. The entire palace was creamy white— perfectly contrasting with the lush green gardens surrounding it.

To summarize it all, the place looked like complete royalty.

Two soldiers opened the gates to the palace and ushered Alfred inside, and in the American's point of view, the interior looked far more impressive than the palace's exterior.

Paintings of the knights of the Round table and King Arthur decorated the dome-shaped ceiling. They seemed to be telling the stories of their brave deeds. As the soldiers led Alfred down the brightly-lit hall, Alfred could see that this was intentionally meant to be a hall of honor. Portraits of the former kings and military leaders of the nation were hung along both sides of the red-carpeted corridor.

The soldiers then carefully escorted Alfred to the throne room where the prince was waiting. Sure enough, Arthur Kirkland himself was sitting cross-legged on his throne—looking very bored. He was gazing at the ceiling while resting his head on his right hand. He was dressed in his formal prince attire while a royal robe was draped on his shoulders like a cape. Arthur sighed and focused his gaze on the ceiling for a few more moments until his sight landed on Alfred. His look then switched to anticipation. Alfred could tell from the look in his emerald-green eyes that the prince was in deep thought.

Beads of sweat began to form on Alfred's forehead. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched the prince study him with such intent he could almost feel those sharp green eyes staring into his soul.

Their eyes locked for a few more moments until the prince smirked at Alfred and gave a light laugh. "Well, as far as I know, you may be a little more interesting than all the others I've seen."

Now it was Alfred's turn to give a laugh. A nervous one. "I get that a lot."

The prince raised an eyebrow at Alfred—obviously amused. He turned to the rest of his staff surrounding the throne room and waved a hand at Alfred like some sort of gesture. "See this, you all? You should follow his example."

Alfred was stunned. What had he done to make the prince take a strange liking—to him out of all people?

His subjects could only nod their heads quietly.

Just then, as if right on cue, a short man briskly walked up to the prince's side, and gave him a sheaf of documents. The prince curiously gave the man a questioning look, and then took the documents. He looked over them with no hint of emotion in his eyes, then waved off the man.

Everything in the room seemed to tense just like that.

Alfred stayed frozen in place. He already realized that the prince was reading his application form.

If he was nervous before, it was nothing compared to _this_.

His heart was beating wildly and sweat ran down the sides of his forehead. His palms turned cold and clammy, and he felt faint.

He wanted it to end now. Just wait for him to say it and—

"Your application is accepted."

Those two words echoed in his mind.

Alfred blinked. "What..?"

"Did you not hear me? I said that your application is accepted... You get the job."

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**Damn! And I tried to make it extra-lengthy too! QAQ**

**This was 10 pages long in word!**

**Effort wasted...**

**Oh and one more thing: NEED. MORE. REVIEWS.**

**It's offcial: I WON'T upload another chapter until I get at least 13 more reviews!**

**I need more fuel for this car which is writing inspiration.. TT_TT**


	4. Important Announcement

**Well, sorry for getting some of you people's hopes up because I would like to say a few things. First of all, I would like to say that the development of this story isn't going too well.**

**I've lost most of my inspiration and I have no ideas anymore for the upcoming chapters.**

**Seriously, people, after being on such a long hiatus for quite some time, I come back, and the number of reviews still haven't changed. I can only sigh.**

**REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! As in—PLEASE!**

**Those things are the only thing that still keep me going! You people might as well expect "The Disappearance of Honda Kiku" and "If Dawn Will End" to be discontinued forevermore at this rate!**

**So… PLEASE.**


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